Before I Hit the Ground
by Byronic Heroine
Summary: "It was an odd sort of wish, but Nel felt like she understood."  A collection of interconnected drabbles about the unspoken relationship between Nnoitra and Neliel.


**Author's Notes:** So. I know it's not a new chapter of The Unnamed Emperor. Quite frankly I don't know what it is. But after finishing Bleach volume 35, I just felt this sudden inspiration to write a fic about, of all pairings, Nnoitra x Nel. Their relationship just strikes me as incredibly fascinating for some reason. Luckily I had a notebook with me at the time, and I wrote it all in one go.

For those who have been following my Suzalulu fic, The Unnamed Emperor, I can assure you that chapter six _is_ being worked on!

Slowly. I'm still being monitored_._

Anyway... I hope you can enjoy this fic! Though it's a rather unorthodox pairing. Maybe that's why I love it. ^-^

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"It's just a couple hundred dead hollows," Nnoitra said dismissively, turning away from the massacre wrought at his hands without a second thought.

Neliel should have felt repulsed at how casually he treated such a large number of lives, but she only felt sad. It was his abilities in battle that had qualified him for the rank of Espada in every other respect, though, he was still a child. He held no regard for life, hollow or otherwise; he leapt into battle without even thinking; he possessed a viciously competitive streak, which unfortunately was directed at her most of the time.

He tried to be strong, but channeled his willpower into the wrong places; the end result was that he appeared even weaker.

Nel decided then that she would take it upon herself to make him strong, whether he desired her aid or not.

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When Nnoitra finally cracked open his eye, it was to find her thoughtfully reading a book next to the lifeless body of the renegade hollow that had almost succeeded in killing him. He didn't say anything, didn't move, just watched one page flip by after the other, turned over by those fingers that were so deft in battle. She was always so calm, so self-assured, coolly analyzing every fight and emerging victorious. He felt a surge of anger concentrated on her, but also something else… was it jealousy? No. He refused to accept that. Jealousy was for the weak.

Finally he spoke: "Why did you save me?"

_Because I couldn't bear to see you die before reaching our fullest potential. I want to watch you grow stronger, not just in battle, but in the way you see yourself, the way you see the world. I know you have that strength inside you. It will be a truly beautiful thing when it finally comes to light._

But the words that escaped her lips were, "Because you're a valuable Espada."

She winced imperceptibly at how cold that sounded.

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He knew that she was aware of the dislike he held for her. "Why do you keep following me around?"

Nel looked at him over her shoulder, locking her gaze with his, and replied, "Because you're weaker than I am."

His eye widened in outrage. Who was _she_ to say such a thing? Unless…

That was it, then. She pitied him. That was why she stayed so infuriatingly close to him.

He didn't want her pity; it only served to make him feel even weaker. But he felt powerless to stop it. So he attempted to resolve those feelings of inadequacy in the only way he knew how.

"I'm weaker than you, am I? We'll just have to see if that's true!" he hissed, holding his scythe out in front of him in an aggressive invitation.

"No, we won't, she said decisively, turning her back to him. "Not today. You don't have to die yet." And in a couple of swift, fluid steps, she was gone.

_Because you're weaker than I am._

He wouldn't be feeling so angry if it weren't true.

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He attacked her before she could refuse the fight.

In a flash of metal almost too quick to see, Neliel drew her sword and parried his blow. "Don't do this," she said levelly. "We both know how it's going to end."

"We don't know anything until the fight's over," he snarled, and swung the crescent blade at her again.

The battle, if it could even be called that, was over in scarcely a minute. It ended with Nnoitra lying sprawled on his back unconscious, and Nel kneeling beside him, shaking her head ruefully.

Her hand reached out to push an errant strand of glossy black hair away from his face. She remained kneeling beside him, fingertips lightly stroking his forehead, and murmured sadly, "You still have so much to learn…"

It was while she uttered those words that Nnoitra regained consciousness. His hand darted forward like a striking snake and caught the fingers that had touched him so tenderly, and _squeezed_, feeling those fingers crack and whine in protest of his viselike grip. His other hand clamped viciously around her elbow. Nel made no effort to pull away, only grimaced in discomfort, though her eyes remained hard and resolved.

"Show pity to me like that, and I'll break your arm," he hissed, putting strain on her forearm to prove his point.

"Do it, then," she retorted, and though the words alone held a challenge, the way in which she spoke them was completely calm, free of emotion.

Her steely eyes latched onto his narrowed one; and then for one breathless moment he saw a flicker of uncertainty there. So she _wasn't_ completely confident all of the time. The realization should have empowered him, spurred him on to snap the fragile bone – because really, it would have been so easy – but instead, for some inexplicable reason, he let her go.

He could already see a _Why?_ forming in her eyes, and he didn't want to have to answer… because he wasn't sure himself. She had been completely at his mercy, and then he'd just passed up a moment that he should have savored for all it was worth. He didn't know why, and he didn't want to even attempt to find the answer.

He stood and turned away, refusing to meet her questioning gaze. "You weren't worth the trouble," he muttered, though they both knew that wasn't the reason.

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"Mercy won't save anybody," he proclaimed, staring down disdainfully at the Arrancar he'd just killed.

"It saved my arm," Nel said pointedly.

"Shut up," he growled. "I was being weak back then." He stared down at his feet, at the pools of blood staining the ground.

"No." Nel shook her head. "At that moment, that was the strongest I'd ever seen you."

Nnoitra walked away before he could really begin to contemplate what that meant.

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"Fighting is my purpose," he said, with so much zeal and vigor that Nel almost didn't feel the need to question it.

But still she asked, "Why do you keep fighting?"

The answer surprised her: "Because I want to die."

She raised an inquiring brow, and he continued, "I want to die in battle. That's why I've become what I am. The stronger I get, the more I can fight."

An Espada, a servant of Aizen, had his own wish. It was an odd sort of wish, but a wish nonetheless. He found that he trusted Nel enough to confide it to her. Or maybe he felt like she was the only person who cared enough to listen.

He told her, "I want life to have fled my body before it hits the ground. That's how I want to die."

It was an odd sort of wish, but Nel felt like she understood.

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Nnoitra contemplated the scythe in his hand and imagined how easy it would be to cut his own throat with it.

He was a failure, he knew. He was an Espada, but he would never be as strong as he aspired to be. He would never be strong enough to fulfill his wish.

He would never be as strong as Neliel was.

_I'm worthless… so why not end it here?_ he thought bitterly. With the pitiful amount of strength he had, he would never be able to die honorably in battle at the hands of a worthy opponent. So he might as well end his sorry life with his own hands. If he wasn't able to die in battle, then he had no reason for living.

He positioned the blade at his neck, squeezed his eye shut, and suddenly he was overcome with the sensation of falling, of a weight bearing down on his chest. Strange… he'd imagined that dying would feel a lot… _freer_. Not like…

"You _idiot!_" The weapon was yanked out of his hands, and he opened his eye to find that he was still very much alive… and very much pinned to the ground by Nel's weight on top of him. He was trapped, Nel's hands pressing down on his shoulders and her legs splayed on either side of his body. She threw the enormous scythe aside with one hand and then turned back to him, and Nnoitra was shocked to find that there were actual tears brimming in her eyes.

"You _idiot!_" she repeated. "What the hell were you thinking?"

He stared at her dully and replied, "I have no purpose. There's no need for my existence to continue. I'll never be as strong as…" He trailed off, both of them finishing the sentence in their heads.

"That's _not_ true," she said, startling him with her vehemence. "You've become so much stronger… I know because I watched it happen. You're more powerful than you know."

He shook his head in resignation. "It's not enough."

The slap resounded through the air and left a smarting burn; Nnoitra reached up to touch the rapidly reddening blotch on his cheek in disbelief.

"You say you don't want my pity… and then you go and wallow in your own!" Nel snarled, and Nnoitra actually cringed at her words. "Wake up! Instead of moaning about how you'll never get stronger, work to make it happen! If it's your reason for living, put all the life you have into it!" A single tear cascaded down her face and landed on his cheek where she had slapped him. "What about your wish?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "You can't die like this! I _refuse_ to let you die like this! You have to die in battle, before your body hits the ground! That's the _only_ way you're allowed to die!"

It was the most vulnerable that he'd ever seen Nel. So at that moment, he decided that for once in his life, _he _would be strong for _her_.

He promised her that he would fulfill his wish.

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Things had changed.

He stood over the unconscious body of a small child with a gaping head wound and roared with laughter. "So _this_ is the mighty Neliel!" he spat scornfully, nudging her with his foot. He grinned in triumph and declared, "Finally… _I'm_ the stronger one now."

He strode away from that tiny, fragile body, still gloating over his victory, almost drunk on it. Was _this_ what true strength felt like?

But it was then that, for some reason, his mind chose to conjure up what felt like a distant memory. It was of Nel telling him that the strongest she'd ever seen him be was that time when he'd chosen _not_ to take the path of blood.

He shoved the memory to the back of his mind so it couldn't haunt him.

But after that day, he would always catch himself looking over his shoulder, searching for his second shadow that was no longer there.

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No. He wasn't going to let it end like this. He wasn't going to lie in the dirt and slowly bleed to death.

He'd made a promise.

So though it was excruciating, though the unbearable pain made him want to die then and there, he rose to his feet and shouted, with a voice raw with the knowledge that he wasn't going to last very long, "I can still fight!"

Kenpachi grinned at the entertainment this particular Espada was providing him with. "Fine… come on!" he roared.

And it _didn't_ last long. In those final moment, Nnoitra put in everything he had, everything he'd ever lived for. But the Soul Reaper's zanpaku-tô still found its way to his chest, and slashed the fatal blow.

His dimming eye zeroed in on a childlike figure resting comatose against a rock, her eyes closed.

_No! _he cried silently. _Watch me! Watch the way I die! You have to look at me!_

And as if hearing his desperate plea, those eyes did open, and they focused on his and didn't look away. They stayed with him, lent him their presence. He saw her mouth his name.

As his life left him, he was overcome with a wonderfully curious sensation – that even though his legs had numbed completely, he was still standing.

He died knowing that a wish and a promise had been fulfilled.

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When Nel opened her eyes, it was to see Kenpachi land the final blow. She knew, though it pained her, that Nnoitra would not survive this battle.

Her eyes glistened with tears as they found his. "Nnoitra…" she murmured.

She watched the light leaved his eyes, watched him collapse to the ground.

Her voice was anguished but filled with pride as she whispered, "You died before you fell."


End file.
